In My Veins
by happycardigans
Summary: Why did Berry's words matter? The girl was nutzo, an overemotional psychopath. So why should Santana care about what she had said? AU, post-Silly Love Songs. This is my first fic so hate on me, haters. Will be Brittana, sooner rather than later. I suck at summaries. Yay.
1. Chapter 1

Santana swallowed hard, back pressed to the wall as Rachel's words rang in her ears yet again:

_"Maybe you're right, maybe I am destined to play the title role in Broadway musical version of Willow, but the only job you're going to have is working on a pole!"_

_Why did Berry's words matter? _The girl was nutzo, an overemotional psychopath. So why should Santana care about what she had said?

_Because no one disagreed with her. Even Brittany just stared; jaw on the floor as you stormed out, _that damned voice in her head told her. Now she was hidden away, tucked away in a corner of the Cheerios locker room. No one was meant to see the tears streaking her tanned face, not even Brittany.

_What the hell was wrong with her? _Berry was nothing more than some loser freak. Santana was the HBIC of McKinley High. People literally cowered at the site of her stalking through the halls most days. But RuPaul finally stands up against her and she can't hold it together? _Shit, Lopez, you're losing it, _piped the voice once more. Santana scrubbed at her face almost violently. She needed to get over it.

"Damn, Lopez. Berry got you good."

"G_-_get out of here Quinn. Coach'll flip if she finds out."

Quinn sighed and sat down next to Santana, sliding back against the wall, "Santana…"

"Save it. I know, I deserved what she said. I'm a total bitch and a slut and-"

"And Rachel doesn't know you," Quinn interrupted, looking the Latina directly in the eyes, willing her to trust her. "They don't get you. I used to not… but… I get it. It's how you protect yourself." She sighed and wrapped an arm around Santana's shoulders before continuing, almost at a whisper, "I don't know what you're so scared of, Santana. But I am sorry. I'm here for you now, you know?"

Santana nodded, sliding closer to Quinn and laying her head on the blonde's shoulder, allowing her tears to flow once again. She had missed Quinn. She'd missed their rivalry, their dynamic as head cheerleaders. But mostly, she had missed _this_; Quinn was so understanding and so ridiculously supportive, even if she didn't know what exactly she was supporting.

The brunette's mind wandered back to Brittany; the way she had just watched Santana leave, speechless. She always got on to Santana for being mean to the Glee kids, but she understood. She understood what Quinn did now, that it was all for show. That deep down…

"You know, after you left Brittany yelled at everyone. She stood up for you, even when Artie tried to… Never mind."

_Artie._ His name sent another flame through her blood stream. Oh, how she wished she could knock him out of that wheelchair. He treated her like a fucking child; he didn't deserve Brittany, hell no. She did – she would treat her right, treat her like she deserved.

"San? Santana honey, where are you?" Her voice echoed through the locker room, sweet but still sad – no, not sad –_worried._

"B-back here, Britt," Santana's voice cracked as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Quinn smiled at her sadly, pulling her arm back to her own side as Brittany rounded the corner. The taller blonde didn't hesitate to drop to her knees and pull Santana into a tight embrace, sending a grateful smile to Quinn.

"Sanny, don't listen to them. You're amazing," Brittany whispered into her hair, feeling Santana beginning to tremble in her arms.

"N-n-no. They're right, they all are," her words were nearly inaudible, Brittany just barely hearing them. She pulled back immediately and held the small, vulnerable Latina at arms' length, brow furrowed, blue eyes intently focused on brown.

"No, Santana. They are absolutely wrong. You are wonderful and sweet and magical and they're just too blinded by their own egos to see that. I don't think that you see it either, but it's true," her words were firm but gentle, slipping their way past Santana's defenses and into her heart. Brittany's voice soothed her, and she nodded gently before melting back into Brittany's arms.

The two stayed on the floor, lost in each other's arms; not noticing as Quinn silently scooted away and got to her feet. She let her two friends have their moment as she slipped out of the room undetected.

Quinn could not believe Rachel – how _fucking _thick that little diva was. Not to mention Artie, how he said "Satan" had deserved such words. And maybe Santana had deserved a bit of back-talk… But that was just low, knowing Satana's history. Quinn sighed to herself – she knew this was far from over.


	2. Chapter 2

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**A/N: Hey guys! I'm really happy about the response from the first chapter, definitely wasn't expecting anything so quickly! As said before, this is my first fic I'm publishing on this site, so criticism is most appreciated.** **At least, if it's kind and constructive. **

**I'm still not entirely sure of the direction this is going! So if you have any ideas, feel free to PM/Review/whatever! This chapter starts out in a flashback... But then speeds back up to where we left off. Just in case there's any confusion there.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, nor any of the characters or songs in this.**

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****_Chapter 2_

_Four Years Earlier..._

_It was the last month of eighth grade; the school year was on a slow downward spiral as state testing and high school enrollment were left behind, giving the eighth graders of Lima Central Middle School to do much of what they pleased with little consequence. There hadn't been a day gone by in the past week without some lame attempt at rebellion. A few girls got sick trying to smoke a cigarette in the bathroom; two of the boys got busted mooning the principal at the student-faculty basketball game; the most ridiculous of all was probably the kids caught making out in the counselor's office -like, really, who does that?_

_But for Santana, this month had been much more low-key - at least, as far as she showed the kids at school. She spent most of her time with her very best friend, Brittany S. Pierce, and her friends Mike Chang and Sam Evans. Mike and Sam were cool, she guessed, but she wasn't just crazy about them. No, Santana was too focused on Brittany - on getting them into the popular group at McKinley High through the Cheerios. Their tryouts were just a few days away, and Santana would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous._

_But Brittany, of course, was never nervous. Why would she be? She was the best dancer in all of Ohio._

_Instead of stressing out like Santana was, Brittany spent her final days at Lima Central joking around with Mike and Sam. She smiled and laughed and flitted around the school, usually dragging her small Latina friend not far behind. She could tell the girl was nervous, and tried to offer the best support she could - by distracting her with silly songs and doodles slipped under desks in class._

_The one thing Brittany could not figure out, though, was why Santana was so very nervous. She wouldn't talk about it. In fact, she hardly ever spoke before lunch, seeming to have something plaguing her mind._

_No matter how much Brittany pushed, Santana would not talk to her about what was wrong. So Brittany just kept on trying to cheer the girl up, praying for it to just be PMS or something._

Santana didn't show up to school for the rest of the week.

She didn't answer her phone or check facebook or her email. She didn't call the school. She didn't even walk outside to get the mail. Instead, she sat inside of her perpetually empty house, watching old _Friend's _reruns, living off of water and hot coffee. She had no apetite, no energy to attempt the homework she knew was piling up, no interest in going over music for glee.

_Ha, glee, _she thought bitterly, _no way I'm going back there._

The week blended in to the weekend, with no sign of her father besides a check on the kitchen counter Sunday morning - for groceries, probably. She wondered briefly if he knew that she had been skipping school. _As if he would care. _She hadn't seen him in at least a month, and beyond that was just in passing. He was probably just busy at work, working double shifts in the ER like he sometimes would when money had been tight.

With it just the two of them, money was never very tight anymore.

She had thought about her mother quite a bit over the week, what she'd said before she'd died. Her mother had been emotionally unstable, bipolar and manic depressive evidently, but wasn't diagnosed until after her passing. No Lopez would have ever seen a therapist; the Lopez family was better than that.

Her mother, Maribel Lopez, had been emotionally abusive to Santana up until the girl was fourteen, when she died. Santana was never good enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, smart, athletic, talented... and eventually, straight enough for Mrs. Lopez. Maribel told Santana everyday that she would never be anything, get anywhere, make any money... She'd end up a low class stripper, forever trapped in Ohio.

"_...the only job you'll ever have is on a pole!"_

Santana shuddered; time for more coffee.

Sunday night, Santana found her father's stash of alcohol; the next few days were spent in a very intoxicated stupor. She turned her phone back on someday Monday, finding dozens of missed calls and texts, some from Quinn and Puck, but most of them were from Brittany.

Santana scoffed as she tapped the messages button; what the hell could they want?

_From Puck: _

_Yo Lopez, where u at? _

_From Quinn: (Wednesday 9:46 AM)_

_Hey San, hope you're doing okay._

_From Brittany: (Wednesday 9:51 AM)_

_Sanny, were r u? I miss u. :-(_

_From Brittany: (Wednesday 10:02 AM)_

_Plz answer. I'm rly sorry about the last couple weeks._

_From Quinn: (Wednesday 11:45 AM)_

_Girl where are you? I'm really worried about you._

She skipped over the next few, up to Saturday's messages. They all seemed fairly similar to the first few...

_From Brittany: (Saturday 10:06 AM)_

_Hey San... I know u prly won't get this... I just want u to know tht I love & miss u a lot. Plz call me..._

_From Brittany: (Saturday 10:45 AM)_

_Ur my favorite unicorn. I wish u'd come back to me._

_From Quinn: (Saturday 11:03 AM)_

_Look San I know you're upset but you NEED to call Brittany. She's a wreck. Please. As soon as you turn on your phone, call her._

_From Brittany: (Saturday 3:48 PM)_

_I love u Sanny. I saw a dragonfly today and it reminded me of u bc it was so pretty. Just like u._

There were more messages but Santana couldn't go on; she already felt horrible. As angry as she'd been at Brittany before Tuesday in the locker room, she still couldn't stand to see those messages.

Yeah, Brittany was with Artie. But that was Santana's fault wasn't it?

This was so fucked up.

So she took another swig of her father's tequila and slept through the next day.

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**A/N: I will be addressing more of Santana's feelings for Brittany and vice versa in the coming chapters. I'm sort of trying to get a feel for how to address Santana's plethora of inner conflict. Thanks for reading! 3**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Alright, Chapter 3 time! Sorry that my posting with these is so sporadic. I'm a senior this year, so applying to college, AP classes, working on my audition packet... X.x Anyhoo. I'm trying to get better with the plot development. _**

**_Thank you all soooooo much for the response so far! This is great. Again, ideas/criticism/lovin' would be fantastic._**

**_3_**

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_"You love her."_

_"What?"_

_"I can see it, Santana. I'm not stupid. You love that Brittany girl."_

_"Mami, no. I don't love Brittany like that... She's my best friend but - "_

_"Santana Maria, I am not blind. You are a sinner! You're a... a lesbian!"_

_"Mami, no! I am not! I love boys!"_

_Maribel Lopez scoffed in the face of a tearful fourteen year old Santana Lopez. It was the summer before ninth grade, Santana was a Cheerio, she was going to be popular. Why couldn't her mother just be proud of her?_

_But no, Santana always had something wrong with her. Today, she was a lesbian. Today she loved Brittany Pierce like she was supposed to love a boy. Tomorrow she would be horribly overweight and the next she'd be too dumb._

_She could never win._

_But through the tears streaming down her young face, she knew her mother was right; she had loved Brittany for a while - probably since they were eleven or twelve. Santana hadn't been able to resist that sweet smile, those clear blue eyes, her sugary voice cutting through the worst kinds of thoughts..._

_But she fought, she fought like hell. No way she loved Brittany Pierce - Santana Lopez was not gay._

_"You're a lesbian and you're a whore!"_

It was Thursday.

A week and two days after the choir room incident.

The parking lot outside of McKinley was filling up as a crimson Mustang found its way through the flocks of students; she found a spot and sat there for a few moments, wondering if Sue was back from mourning her sister yet, wondering how much work she would still have to make up, wondering if anyone had really noticed she'd been gone besides Quinn, Puck and Brittany.

Once the parking lot was mostly cleared, she stepped out of the car and set off towards the school - more specifically, towards Sue's office.

"Sandbags. Where the hell have you been?" Sue stated more than asked, as Santana approached the opened door.

"At home sick, Coach. It won't happen again."

Coach Sue looked up at the girl in front of her desk, standing tall and seemingly strong. The Latina was her best Cheerio; athletic, determined, a fierce leader, kind of a bitch... But there was a part of Sue that knew that there was more going on. She had never quite forgotten the story of her mother's passing, the summer before she entered high school.

And so Sue's eyes betrayed a bit of that sympathy, the understanding that pushed her to let this slide... Somewhat.

"It better not. But just to make sure, you're running double the laps today at practice. Good to see you back."

And with that, Sue blocked out the girl and continued her work.

After her strange encounter with Coach Sylvester, Santana made her way to her locker, the sea of students parting in her path just like always. That was reassuring - she was still feared by the student body; the freshmen and sophomores gawked at her, pale and wide eyed, while the upper grades simply regarded her with a frigid respect. They stayed out of her way, she didn't order a slushie date with their faces.

Rachel Berry couldn't upset the balance of things. _Hell no._

So the small brunette stalked through the halls, past the choir room without a second glance, and up to her locker. Brittany wasn't at her locker, _thank god, _so Santana pulled her door open in silence and pulled out the books needed for her morning classes.

"Santana," a familiar voice sounded behind her. She turned on her heel, slamming her locker closed.

"Karovsky," she replied icily, raising her eyebrows as her lips set in a slight pout.

"I hear the gleeks need a little popularity therapy," he matched her expression, leaning against her closed locker.

Had all the whole school heard about Berry's outburst? Had they heard about Santana's breakdown...?

"Puck told me what that singing hobbit said to you. Also that he got a good look at the razors in your hair," he answered her thoughts without missing a beat. Santana nodded stiffly.

"Right. RuPaul. Yeah, she'll get what's coming to her," she scoffed, her eyes softening momentarily. She soon thought better of it though, and added, "But I'm not looking for a ride on the Closet-Express, so get out my way"

Karovsky took a small step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, "Whatever Lopez, but just remember, if those losers need back in their place, you and I are on the same team."

Santana froze. _You and I are on the same team._ What? No. He didn't... He couldn't...

Was he...?

She shook her head, "Yeah, sure. I'll let you know," and walked off quickly.

He couldn't know. That was stupid - just a figure of speech.

_God Lopez, get it together._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Howdy friends!

So I should probably be working on Calculus or something but I felt like writing. Anyways, thank you all sooooo much for the follows/favorites/reviews. It really means a lot.

So, on with the story, lovelies! 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. :(

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"S-San? Ohmygodyoureback!"

A tall blur of blonde hair, pale skin and a Cheerios skirt wrapped the smaller, darker girl up and lifted her off the ground, spinning in the empty space at the front of the classroom. Santana hesitated, but eventually wrapped her arms around her best friend's neck and buried her face there. She ignored the looks from the others - the glee kids - watching the exchange with varying expressions, still stuffed in their seats.

She ignored the glare she'd recieved from Artie as she entered the classroom. She ignored the small, sad smile from Mike. She ignored Quinn's smug little smirk. She ignored all of them, instead absorbing the warmth of Brittany's embrace. Her strong arms were wrapped firmly around Santana's too-thin waist, crushing her tightly to her chest. The girls, as always, fit together perfectly; when Santana was in Brittany's arms, all of the bad in the world slipped away.

That is, until a small brunette walks through the door. And directly into Santana and Brittany.

Santana was back on the ground in a millisecond, spun on her heel facing Rachel in another. Her face was unreadable, causing Rachel to take a step back wide eyed, mouth open, visibly paling. She was expecting a verbal smackdown - or maybe a physical smackdown - and rightly so. Even Finn, who was standing just behing Rachel, looked prepared for the worst. Neither of them knew what to take of her blank expression - eyes slightly narrowed, staring the young diva down, but almost like she was calculating as much as threatening.

Setting her jaw, the Latina spun on her heel and took her seat, Brittany following close behind... dumbfounded.

In fact, the entire room seemed to stare from Rachel, to Santana and back. Even Mr. Schue gawked as the usually vicious Cheerio slid into her seat and pulled out her Spanish binder.

Yet again, Santana was stuck ignoring the looks. The glares, open mouths, wide eyes, _the fucking whispers. _She glanced over at Brittany, sitting a little further from Artie than usual, looking at her with a questioning pout and her head cocked to the side. Her cobalt blue eyes drew Santana into a trance; the golden flecks around her eyes sparkled like the stars they had used to look at, lying on the roof of Santana's house.

She missed those nights, back when they were inseperable. Back when they spent every free moment together. Back before Artie.

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of the class and pulling Brittany's beautiful eyes away from her.

It was going to be a long day.

Brittany Pierce was not near as stupid as everyone seemed to think.

In fact, she understood many things better than most people. Like when little kids would babble, she could totally hold a conversation with them. And if anyone ever needed a bedtime story, she was their girl.

And when everyone stared at Santana, wondering silently why she hadn't just struck Rachel down where she stood, Brittany understood. In fact, Brittany had known that Santana wasn't going to yell at her from the second the stocky brunette had run into them.

Because Brittany knew that Santana was still upset, whether she was letting it show or not. Brittany also knew that Santana had lost weight, and that she wasn't going to show up for glee that afternoon.

Brittany knew a lot of things.

The blonde was sitting on the stage, stretching her legs out after an extra boring rehearsal; glee wasn't near as fun without Santana, even if they hadn't really been talking for the last couple of months. Because even if they weren't talking, Brittany still loved the brunette's voice - so sultry, so sexy, so very Santana. And she missed that voice terribly. She missed hearing her through all of Rachel's drama, Mercedes's attitude, Finn's... whatever Finn was. But instead, she got all of that, and Artie to top it all off.

God. Artie.

Brittany half sighed, half groaned at the thought of her extremely possessive boyfriend. Ever since Artie had tried to back Rachel up, she couldn't look at him the same. Hell, she could hardly even look at him; he knew Santana was her best friend whether he liked it or not, and he still tried to insult her to Brittany. And beyond that, he was just an ass. He constantly called her stupid without even saying it - with his tone and how he thought he had to oversimplify everything for her to understand.

Santana never did that. She never insulted Brittany's intelligence at all. Actually, she usually verbally destroyed anyone that did.

Which was why Brittany knew she needed to break up with Artie. And soon.

Like, this weekend soon.

"Brittany?" A feminine voice cut softly into her thoughts, pulling her away from Artie and what to say to him.

"Hey Rachel..." Brittany frowned. She still really wasn't happy with the soprano.

"C-can I... Is... Is..."

"She's upset Rachel. What you said, it was really not okay. Like I said before, maybe she can be a bitch, but she's just as scared and insecure as everyone else behind all of her words," the blonde stated bluntly, maybe coming off a bit snippy because Rachel's eyes popped open wide.

"I know you said that, Brittany, but I don't think you understand..." Rachel began, but stopped when she caught Brittany's glare.

"I _understand _a lot of things, Berry. I _understand _Santana better than any of you ever will if you continue to treat her like this."

Rachel was taken aback, visibly surprised by the bitterness lacing Brittany's words. The dancer had never been known as aggressive, but maybe this was just a sensitive subject. She decided to change her approach, "Brittany. Listen to me. As much... As much as I hate to admit it, glee needs Santana. We need twelve members. If Santana is willing to play nice..."

"Rachel. Leave," Quinn's voice, firm and low, startled Brittany, causing her to jump and spin her upper body around to face the shorter blonde.

"But Quinn, you know how -"

"I know you need to leave. Now." Her voice was stiff, almost menacing - a tone Brittany recognized all too well from Quinn's days as head Cheerio.

Stopping herself inhale, Rachel saved her protest for another day; she knew she had lost this one. She spun on the heel of her gawdy Mary Jane's and exited the auditorium with a dramatic _humph._

"Thanks, Quinnie," Brittany said quietly, her shoulders dropping with a defeated sigh.

"B... Is Santana okay?" the shorter blonde asked, sitting carefully next to her friend and watching her face carefully.

"I don't know. I don't really think so," she sighed.

"Is it just because of -"

"What Rachel said?" Brittany finished for her, continuing after a nod from Quinn, "I think that has a lot to do with it. I think it reminded her of her mom, y'know? She used to say stuff like that to her."

Quinn nodded thoughtfully, both of them succumbing to the peaceful silence of the room. Neither girl spoke for a long while.

"Yo Britt! Where you at, girl?" Artie's obnoxiously white voice called from backstage, cutting into the silence like the wail of a siren. Quinn caught Brittany's eye roll and quiet sigh.

"On stage, Artie. With Quinn."

"Oh hey Quinn! How you doin'?" He all but whined as he wheeled on stage.

"I'm pretty good. Just leaving actually. Have a good night. Oh, and text me Britt," she said over her shoulder, having stood as he wheeled over. She left the couple alone, still internally smirking at Brittany's reaction to Artie.

Because Quinn wasn't as stupid as her two best friends must have thought, either.

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A/N: Okay, so I know there hasn't been too much plot development quite yet, but I'm trying to get the feel for the characters down - to show how everyone feels/thinks/what's going on... All of that! So patience please. I may be able to crank out another chapter tonight, too. :)

3 Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

_It was raining hard, drenching anyone that stepped into the open for more than a second. But that's how it was supposed to be on days like this, wasn't it? The funeral-goers all gathered around the coffin. Most held umbrellas, or at least stood beneath one being shared. The water was beginning to puddle in the grass, soaking everyone's shoes and socks, spreading graveyard mud all over everyone's everything. The empty hole in the ground would collect water for a bit, before it was absorbed into the dirt and then the process repeated. _

_Santana watched, counting the fifth cycle of absorption as familiar fingers found their way in between hers. Once settled, they squeezed her hand lovingly, one bit of warmth in the cold rain. _

_It was June, but it was cold. Cold because of the rain. Cold because of the circumstances. _

_Cold because her mother had been._

_A tall figure came to loom over her, reaching an arm around to rest a hand on her shoulder. Her father's hands were thick, strong - just like him. He was like an anchor through all of the hurt that had plagued the last few weeks, along with the anchor currently tied to her left hand. Neither of them had heard her mother's last words to the young cheerleader. The young Cheerio. _

_But they hadn't been the ones to find her, either, slumped across the bed, an empty pill bottle in one hand, a crumpled note in the other. _

_'I am a failure,' it said._

_And as they lowered the black wooden box into the ground, Santana remembered the rest, clenching her hand about the offending paper in her pocket._

_'And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.'_

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

There was a knock at the door, startling Santana from her trance. She found the sound out of place, not having heard a sound she didn't create in that house for so long. Nevertheless, she made her way to the door and pulled it open, surprised to find her tall blonde friend beaming back at her.

Brittany never failed to stop Santana dead in her tracks; she wore a short pair of denim shorts that hugged her in all the right ways, and an oversized white v-neck. Her hair was left wavy, rolling lusciously over her shoulders as her eyes and smile lit up the room. Santana couldn't help but grin right back, wishing for nothing but to be the cause of that smile for the rest of her life. Santana, however, was clad in a pair of sweatpants - rolled at the hip - and a black cami, her hair waving and curling around her shoulders wherever it pleased. By no means had she been expecting guests, but Brittany still watched her adoringly. G_od bless that girl_, the darker girl thought with a smile.

"Hey B," she said gently.

"Hiya San," the dancer said back, just as soft. "I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this. I thought maybe - y'know it's Friday - we could watch some movies? I brought your favorites!" Santana looked at the DVDs that Brittany held out, consisting of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, Breakfast Club and Brittany's own favorite (which Santana claimed to be hers, for the dancer's sake) The Little Mermaid. The smaller girl laughed gently, stepping aside to allow Brittany in the otherwise vacant house.

Brittany, however, had other plans, as she scooped the Latina up and carried her bridal-style to the couch, shutting the door with her foot as she walked. She set a giggling Santana down on the linen sofa carefully before commandeering the DVD player and starting Lord of the Rings. Santana snuck off to the kitchen, grabbed the unopened bag of Chex Mix hidden in the pantry and the bottle of Dr. Pepper from the fridge and returned to the living room, stopping only to pick up the big fluffy blanket from where she had left it on the floor the day before. She set the snacks on the coffee table in front of the couch and jumped back onto Brittany's lap, throwing the blanket over them both.

The blonde hummed happily, wrapping her arms around Santana's waist. She pulled the girl's back flush against her and inhaled deeply, allowing Santana's scent of cinnamon and honey to flood her senses. She smiled contentedly; nothing could be more perfect than this.

Well... Scratch that. Things would be better sans one obnoxious boy.

"Sanny?" She said quietly.

"Yeah Britt-Britt?" the brunette responded, sliding off her friend's lap and next to her, only to sling her legs across her previous seat. Her chocolate eyes searched Brittany's face, concern mixing with complete adoration.

"Are... Are you okay?"

Santana sighed, squeezing her eyes closed for a brief moment before responding, "I don't know Britt."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Why?" Santana peeked one eye open, cocking that eyebrow at Brittany's question.

"Well," Brittany sighed, "I mean why won't you talk to me?"

"Britt..." the smaller girl's voice cracked on the vowel, making her feel more vulnerable then she already did, "I.. Brittany I love you and you don't love me, and now those New Directions punks are acting up and Karovsky is acting weird and it all just... I keep... I keep having dreams about her. And all of it, all of it happening all right now is just too much." Santana finished with a sigh, crushing her eyes closed once more, but Brittany ran a thumb over her crinkled forehead before resting both hands on either side of the girl's perfectly tanned face.

"San, honey, look at me," she whispered, receiving a gentle head-shake in turn. "Please?" with that, Santana conceded, her sad, stormy eyes meeting Brittany's loving one's cautiously.

"Santana. I love you. I love you more than you will ever know, and I promise, you'll see that soon. I just... I couldn't dump Artie like that, not back then. But now..." Again, Santana raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Just give me some time San. Promise you'll give me some time."

Santana nodded carefully before Brittany pulled her back into her arms, willing Santana to be strong.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm sorry I suck. I got SOOOO busy. But I leave for Colorado tomorrow, so I thought I owed y'all a little somethin' somethin' before I left. I REALLY AM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

Disclaimer, yo: I don't own glee. Or music. Or even this computer. It's my mother's.

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Running her hands through her short blonde hair, Quinn stared back at her fellow Glee-Clubbers. Here they were, wanting to know the truth that wasn't Quinn's to give. She was maybe a bit relieved that they were at least somewhat concerned with Santana's well-being. But she also knew that on some counts, it was an entirely selfish inquiry. Nonetheless...

"Well Quinn? Why won't she come back?" Sam asked, his voice much more gentle than the previous demands had been. The group wanted to know why Santana refused to look at them, why Rachel's words had effected her so. And they had every right to; the usually invincible Latina had certainly been hurt and they had no idea why. The small blonde sighed and closed her eyes, trying to think of the words.

"Santana... San has had a really hard life," Quinn began gently, glad that neither Santana nor Brittany were present, "her mom... Her mom was a dancer until she met her father, I guess. San said her dad offered her mother a better life, gave her the opportunity to live without the dancing. But I guess as the years went on, San and her brother came along and their parents grew apart. Her father had made enough to move them from Lima Heights Adjacent to uptown, but he was never really around. Her mom got depressed and killed herself the summer before freshman year. Santana found her. But before that, Mrs. Lopez was really hard on her..."

Quinn sighed again, knowing she was doing the story no justice. Santana always played it off like it was nothing, but she remembered the broken girl in the locker room three years ago, just like she'd found her more recently.

Artie broke Quinn's brief reverie with an obnoxious scoff, "Like that bitch knows hard. Santana - "

"Artie. Hush," Mercedes growled, still watching Quinn intently; the larger girl really did care for Santana, whether she'd admit it or not.

"Uhm..." Quinn searched, ignoring Artie's grumbling, "Well. Like I said. She was really hard on San. Like, really really mean; she always told her how she wasn't smart or pretty, how she needed to lose weight... But she also told her - a lot - that she'd end up like her mother had been, y'know... A dancer and all. She always called Santana a slut, before we were old enough for that to even apply. It just sucked for her. And she always acted like it didn't hurt, but I know it did."

"Santana's mother was emotionally abusive," Rachel stated, incredulous. Her eyes were wide, tear-filled, guilt coursing through her. Of course Santana had reacted so strangely - Rachel had just opened up a whole new emotional can of worms. But Quinn just nodded stiffly, biting her bottom lip and shifting from side to side.

"That still doesn't give her the right to treat us like this," Finn growled.

"God Finn, would you just shut up?" Rachel snapped, rendering the room to an awkward, still silence.

"Uh, Rachel?"

"No. Because funny enough, we never gave her a chance. She came in here with Brittany and Quinn, and yeah, she has a bad attitude, but she has a bad attitude because she has a damn reason to!" Rachel's voice cracked and tears began to cascade down her cheeks, but she continued anyways, "But we always treated her like an outsider! We took in Brittany, we took in Quinn, but we never gave Santana the time of day! And now... God, if I had known..."

"You couldn't have known, Rachel," Puck said quietly, his face in his hands. "I should have known, though. Hell, I know we were a hook up for a while, but she was - she is still my friend. I always knew something was off though. Her dad... Like... I have never seen him."

Quinn cleared her throat gently, "I've seen him about four times in the three years that I've known her. He leaves her money then disappears for weeks."

"That's not healthy," Sam said softly, thinking of his own family's struggles.

"Well she ain't gettin' my sympathy," Artie deadpanned, earning glares from Quinn, Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes and Puck. Even Sam shook his head at Artie's comment, but continued to try to console Rachel who had turned from Finn.

"Not mine, either. She's a bully, and that's it," Finn agreed quietly.

"There's more going on with that girl than just that though," Kurt spoke up, finally. His features were painted with sincere concern; Blaine and Quinn nodded, but no one said anything for a long moment.

But then a bouncing bubble of blonde hair skipped into the room, followed closely by one Will Schuester. Artie held his arms out to Brittany expectantly, but she breezed past him and into the chair between Mercedes and Kurt. She then took the time to look around at everyone's incredulous - or in Artie's case, pissy - expressions and shrugged, "What's up?"

"Uh... Well, we were just talking about - " Rory began uncomfortably.

"Santana," Brittany finished for him. "You know, I don't know what you all were saying, but you should stop being so mean talking about her. You're really hippopotamal."

"Hypocritical," Mercedes and Kurt both said gently at the the same time.

"Yeah, that. She's not gonna come back until you all grow up. She might not come back then."

"Brittany, I'm really sorry for what I said. I had no idea..." Rachel pleaded.

"No one did. Well, except me. And Quinnie. And Tubs, but Santana doesn't know that he knows so don't tell her. But she's magical, so you all should treat her like a fairy," she said this all very matter-of-factly, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

"God, Britt! Why don't you see how much of a bitch Santana is! Are you that - " Artie practically yelled, exasperated, only to be interrupted by the bang of a chair hitting the floor and Brittany suddenly on her feet.

"Am I what, Artie? Am I that _stupid?_ Well you would know, wouldn't you! Because you obviously spend so much time worrying about what I actually care about!" Brittany was yelling, glaring at him as an unfamiliar heat overtook her. "She's my best friend! And as much of a douche that you obviously are, she tried so damn hard to like you! But you just couldn't give her the benefit of the doubt; you couldn't accept that she's a wonderful, beautiful person with actual feelings!"

Brittany started towards the door but stopped at the piano and turned to glare at Artie one last time, "Maybe I am stupid, but you're a bully just like Karovsky is. We're over, Artie."

And with that, Brittany was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I am so sorry. I got soooo busy! But I'm home sick today, so I thought I'd work on this a little bit. Thank you all so much for the follows and favorites and reviews! It really means a lot. The song in this chapter is Vienna by The Fray.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, the music or any of the characters.

* * *

"Wh-what?" Artie choked, but Brittany was already out the door; the entire room watched in silence as his face grew more and more red. "How could she...?"

"Maybe because you were going to call her stupid," Kurt deadpanned, rising from his seat and making his way to the floor to stand next to Quinn. "You know, Finn, Artie..." he sighed in exasperation, "for two people who claim to be all about acceptance and love and second chances, you're both very thick-headed. Brittany's right, Rachel's right - we never tried with Santana. We assumed she was your typical bitchy cheerleader and blew her off. But now is our chance to fix that, and if you disagree, then maybe it's you who don't belong here, not her."

The two boys in question stared at Kurt in disbelief, Finn's mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water's. After a moment, the previously silent Mr. Schuester cleared his throat gently to break the tension, "Guys, we have - "

"Yeah, we know, we have competition coming up," Rachel said blankly, "But we also have members of this family that are hurting, and for once, I kind of think that's more important than some crappy hair song from the 80's."

The whole club nodded in agreement, barring Finn and Artie, as Kurt and Quinn both turned and left the room without another word.

The auditorium was -luckily- empty as Santana sat quietly behind the piano. She missed singing, she really did. And if she was being honest, she missed Glee, but she was never going back there. They had crossed a line, whether Brittany saw it or not.

Letting out a slow breath, she let her fingers begin to work against the keys and her foot prodded the pedals. She let the music encompass her, every note ringing through her mind like a prayer.

"_The day's last one-way ticket train pulls in,_

_We smile for the casual closure capturing._

_There goes the down pour,_

_There goes my fare thee well."_

__Santana's voice was intoxicating, drawing Kurt in the moment he stepped through the auditorium door. He watched as her eyes squeezed shut and her hands glided across the piano and her lips formed each pitch perfectly. If he was being honest, he'd choose Santana over Rachel vocally any day. But of course, Rachel needn't know that.

But Kurt heard the pain laced through the Latinas voice; he heard her longing for normalcy and he could identify maybe a little bit. He knew how she had to feel; like nobody understood, nobody wanted her. He knew she loved Brittany - he could see it in her eyes, he could see the hurt there when Artie pulled Brittany away, he could see how depressed she'd been recently. Why hadn't he said anything to her before now? He was scared of her, sure. But he knew there was a side to her that he couldn't have seen yet, that no one but Brittany had seen.

"_There's really no way to reach me._

_Is there really no way to reach me?_

_Am I already..._

_So this is your Maverick,_

_This is Vienna..."_

As soon as her song ended, Santana became very aware of someone watching her, scanning the auditorium to find Kurt leaning against the wall separating the floor and stadium seating. He met her gaze with a small, sad smile.

"What do you want, Lady Face?" Santana tried to sound intimidating, but her voice failed her.

Instead of pointing this out, Kurt stepped forward with hands up in surrender, "I come in peace."

"What are you doing here..?" She sighed.

"Honestly... Making sure you're okay. And apologizing on behalf of the glee club... And enjoying your wonderful voice," He added that last part with a smile smile and a gentle chuckle.

"Well I-"

"I know you're not okay, so don't Santana," Kurt sat next to her on the bench and scanned her features. She'd lost weight - if that was even possible - and her eyes were dark and sad. "We didn't know. None of us, especially not Rachel..."

"I guess Quinn told you then..."

"We more or less forced it out of her. Look... We've all been really horrible to each other. We've been bad to you, you've been awful to us... And none of us deserve that. This club is about love and acceptance, and we didn't accept you like we should have. And we're sorry."

Santana leaned back with a sigh, "Yeah... I guess we've all been pretty shitty. Artie and Finn are in on this...?"

"Well, no," he shifted a bit uncomfortably, "They're the only ones that tried to justify how we've been... Then Brittany dumped Artie rather publicly during glee today..."

Kurt watched Santana's face as she processed, surprise shining in her eyes. And maybe a little hope.

"Santana... We really want you back in glee... But can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," she chuckled.

"You love Brittany, don't you?"

She saw this coming and smiled gently, nodding slowly. "Yeah. I really do."

Kurt nodded, already having known the answer. "Come back to glee. After school today, in here. We need you. And you need Brittany." He stood up and took a few steps towards the door before turning back and looking at her. She looked back up at him and nodded, "I'll be there. But keep that nugget to yourself, aight Porcelain?" She winked at him with a grin and he beamed back.

"Gotcha. So... Are we like, friends now? Or does Santana Lopez have friends?" He joked.

"Mmm... We've been friends for a while. You're one of the few people that I don't think sucks," She smiled as she followed him to the door. They both laughed before parting ways, both having won a significant victory for themselves.

Maybe things would be okay, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: What up! I'm gonna try to pump out another chapter today in repentence for being uber distracted the past month. Thank you so much for reviews and whatnot and keep 'em coming. :D**

**Disclaimer, yo': I don't own Glee or music or anything really beside my own crazy mind.**

"Ahhh Satan in the house!" Mercedes exclaimed excitedly, scooping Santana off the ground and spinning her around, both girls laughing. Mike was next, wrapping Santana up in a tight hug that was soon joined by Sam, Puck, Quinn, Tina, Blaine, Rory and Kurt. They were all there smiling and laughing, welcoming Santana back the best way they knew how. When they released her, Rachel approached cautiously.

"Santana...?" She said quietly, tredding lightly.

"Man Hands?" Santana quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"I... I'm really sorry for what I said. I just want you to know."

Santana worked a muscle in her jaw, her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she calculated carefully... And pulled Rachel in for a hug.

"It's cool, Rach. We're even," Santana said quietly into her ear. Tears filled Rachel's eyes and she squeezed the Latina back; maybe they hadn't had the perfect start to their friendship, and maybe it would never be perfect, but Rachel knew this was the first step in the right direction.

After being released by Rachel, two familiar, pale arms wrapped around Santana's waist and pulled her tight. "I'm so glad you're back, San," Brittany whispered in her ear. Santana leaned her head back to lean against Brittany's shoulder.

"Well! Now with the group all back together, let's get ready for regionals!" Mr. Schuester announced, earning a cheer from the club in return.

XxXxXxX

"I've missed this," Brittany said with a satisfied hum. The two girl's lay stretched out on Santana's rooftop, watching the stars glimmering overhead. Santana sighed in agreement, snuggling closer to Brittany's side.

"I'm really proud of you, San."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't have to come back to glee... But you did. And you're even being nice to Rachel, when you didn't have to forgive her. I just... I'm really proud of you."

Santana smiled, biting her lip as a blush rose in her cheeks. Forgiving Rachel had been a big step for her, one that she didn't necessarily want to take. And for Brittany to realize that, for her to understand what it meant for her and to appreciate it... It meant more than the blonde could ever know.

"Thank you Britt... I just... I couldn't stand not seeing you. And honestly, I missed glee. I missed performing."

"I know you did. I missed you. I missed dancing with you," Brittany propped herself up on one elbow and leaned over the small brunette, pulling her closer to her body and running her eyes over her face.

"San... I... I love you. And I'm sorry for everything. But I love you, and that's all that matters now." Her heart pounding in her chest, she leaned her face closer to Santana's, drinking in her smooth, caramel skin and perfectly red lips and her chocolate eyes, twinkling in the starlight. She ran her free hand through the long, wavy, raven hair that framed the most perfect features, then rested that hand on Santana's stomach.

"I love you too Brittany," Santana replied, running her eyes across Brittany's own pale skin and shiny, blue eyes as they came closer and closer, until two soft, pink lips were pressed lightly against her own.

And it was perfect. As Brittany leaned closer and closer, pressed their lips harder together, they worked against one another like they did so every day. Within five seconds, Santana was addicted, Brittany's lips making her head spin. When she pulled away, she could hardly breathe.

It was perfect. Brittany was perfect, the kiss was perfect, the night was perfect.

That is, until the slam of a car door sounded below them, and a few minutes later, the sound of Santana's father calling, "Santana, mija! Donde esta?"

**A/N: Ahhh I'm really sorry this is so short. I just think this is the best place to stop with the amount of time I have. I'll try to update within the week!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Okay. So. Here we go.**

**This is later than I expected it to be but I had a seriously hard time deciding where to start. A lot happens this chapter, even though it's pretty short. I tried to beef it up a bit, but I don't think I should do too much of that, running the risk of belittling the plot. **

**I'm going to take this moment to clear something up, just before people start asking about it. I know that things did not at all happen this quickly or whatever in the show. This story is mostly AU, but I am pulling specific events (like you will see in this chapter) to help with my plot. It's not my intention to play with the canon events, so sorry if that gets in any way confusing.**

**Also, I started up a new story called ****_How to Save a Life_**** recently that I've posted the first couple chapters of. It's not connected to this one at all, and was sort of my way to deal with my constant writer's block problem. **

**This has been a really long A/N. BUT I just thought I needed to put some of that out there. Thank you all SO very much for all of the favorites and follows and the few reviews I've received, keep them coming! I love y'alls feedback and if you have any ideas or input, I would love to hear it. Anyhoo, on with the show.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor any of the songs used in this story.**

"We have got to do something about this."

The familiar voice cut into Finn's thoughts and he turned from his locker, nearly slamming his knee on Artie's chair in the process. The younger boy was glowering, his eyes sharp and narrow behind his thick lenses.

"Huh? About…?"

"About _Santana," _the junior growled her name like it was a curse.

Finn just sort of looked at him for a moment; his whole face seemed plagued by some hatred he'd never seen on the boy before. He could tell that Artie was becoming consumed by the situation, and Finn had an idea of why. Yeah, Santana was mean, and Rachel was giving Finn Hell and the whole Glee club was being ridiculous… But this was about Brittany, wasn't it? This was about her choosing Santana over Artie.

"Not that I disagree. Because I'm totally with you that she's gotta pay, but are you sure you're not just mad at Brittany?" Finn asked carefully, cringing as the words left his mouth. Artie would probably take it the wrong way and flip out and…

"I'm not mad at Brittany – like hell that girl knows what _Satan _is up to. It's my job to protect her from bitches like that. And we have got to stop her. She shouldn't been in Glee and I don't know why everyone is suddenly jumping on the bitch-wagon after everything she's done," he crossed his sweater-clad arms tightly across his chest, "So are you with me or not?"

Finn scoffed, ignoring the voice that was telling him to walk away right then, "I mean, yeah I'm with you. But how do we hurt _Santana-freaking-Lopez?_ She's literally the top dog in this school."

"What do we have on her? I mean, there has got to be something."

"Oh my God. She's _gay. _I mean I'm pretty sure she is, and that would destroy her reputation!" His eyes widened with this epiphany, and Artie's mirrored before narrowing into an evil smirk.

"She would be killed," he said, his voice taking on a maniacal quality, "the Cheerios would hate her, the football team…. Her life would be over."

"But," Finn sighed, "that's really low. I don't know Artie…"

"Finn. C'mon. She has made our lives Hell for years! She deserves this!"

The larger boy brought his hands up to his face, rubbing his eyes in frustration, "Let's just… Let's just think about it. Don't jump on anything."

"Whatever Finn," Artie growled, starting to roll away, "make up your mind soon though. Or she wins. And I want my Britts back."

As Artie left and the bell signaling the end of passing period, Finn sighed and slammed his locker shut. _No, _they couldn't just out Santana like that. She had done some awful things throughout the years, but that was just low. Look at what Kurt had been through! And how would her father react? They couldn't do that.

Little did Finn know, they already had.

XxXxXxX

_One week later._

Life in the New Directions had settled down considerably in the past week; the news of Brittany and Artie's break up had settled down, Santana was happily re-assimilated and the road to Regionals was looking broad and bright. Artie was frustrated with Finn and his disinterest in destroying Santana's life now that he and Rachel were back on good terms.

For the first time in a very long time, all was well.

That is, until one day during after school rehearsal when one Sue Sylvester burst into the auditorium.

"Schuester, I need to see Santana Lopez. _Now._"

XxXxXxX

Santana stared blankly as the screen went black.

_Sue Sylvester's head cheerleader is a lesbian student._

_Head cheerleader is a lesbian student._

_Lesbian._

_How could they know? Who the hell told this guy?_

Burt Hummel answered her inner question after a silent moment; she briefly wondered if she'd asked it out loud.

"His niece is a student at this school. Evidently, she overhead someone in the hall."

_But who could know? _They had been so careful, been nothing more than the best friends they always had been in the hallways. They hadn't even told the Glee kids. How could this get to a Congressional candidate, for the love of God? And who would use something like this for a political ad? That was just sick.

"Santana," Sue said gently, placing a careful hand on top of the girl's clenched fist, "I'm going to get this taken down as soon as I can… But…"

"But it's already aired, hasn't it?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly. Her tough was wavering as tears flooded her eyes and she realized, her life was over. Her dad was going to hate her. Her brother might even hate her. And what about her Abuela? _Oh god, oh god, oh god…._ She had to fight to control her breathing.

"Santana, I know this is hard, but you need to talk to your parents," Burt said gently; of course he knew it was hard – his son was the first out gay kid at McKinley.

But he was loving. Accepting. Present.

_My life is over._

At that moment, Santana's phone went off, displaying a message that she'd already been dreading.

_Incoming: Dad 4:13 PM_

_Get home. Now._


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello again! Again, so very sorry how late this is. I hate how busy I get. But I've been accepted to my college of choice and the semester is almost over so things should be winding down! Happy day!**

**Anyways, I know the last chapter was very fast, and rather short. I'm sorry about that, but I didn't know how to keep adding stuff without ruining the impact. So on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or anything.**

XxXxXxX

Santana stared at the phone in her hands, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes burning. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore and let them fall silently from her eyes. It was over. Her dad… What would he do anyway? How had he seen the commercial? When had he gotten home?

_Who would even do this to someone?_

She stood up with shaking legs and nodded once, swallowing hard.

"I…" she breathed, "I g-gotta get h-home. M-my father…" she waved her phone halfheartedly.

Sue nodded at her with sad, sympathetic eyes, "You're free to go Ms. Lopez. I wish you the best." Burt mirrored Sue's expression as they watched the girl leave, her shoulders sagging and all of her usual cockiness drained from her being.

XxXxXxX

She walked down the hall, still shaking with nerves. And a little bit with anger. _Who would do that? Who would freaking out her to the niece of some half-baked politician?_ She silently fumed for a moment, passing by the choir room without a second glance, before remembering her father's text message; her life was over. She was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. Besides run, and where could she go? No, she had to face this. She sniffled and choked down a sob, fresh tears cascading down her flushed cheeks.

"Santana?"

"G-g-go away, Rachel," Santana growled the best she could, but it came out a mangled sob. Even so, she didn't turn around, just kept on walking. She heard steps pick up behind her, but couldn't talk her legs into moving any faster. Rachel's warm hand gripped her shoulder and she slowed to a halt, even more tears breaking free from her eyes.

"Santana what's going on? Why did you have to leave rehearsal?" Rachel asked, her voice soft but full of concern. Santana shook her head quickly, still not facing the other girl.

"I… Th-they…. Someone… Out-ed me. And i-it's… It's on a commercial. For.. a-all of Ohio…" she choked between sobs, "And my d-dad… I just… I have t-to go, Rachel."

She pulled out of Rachel's grip and set off towards the doors at the end of the hall, not looking back even once. Rachel, however, watched Santana until she pushed through the doors. She didn't really understand what Santana had been saying. Out-ed? Commercial? What was going on? But as she walked back into the choir room and saw the whole club gawking at the TV on Schue's desk, which currently showed a picture of Santana Lopez with a rainbow flag behind her, it all clicked into place.

"Oh my God…"

XxXxXxX

Santana's phone rang four times by the time she had put her car in drive, twice from Brittany, once from Quinn and another from Puck. She had ignored all of them, even the short vibrations that signaled text messages, and she'd noticed about five of those. She had mostly controlled her tears, concentrating on breathing deeply and not crashing her car on the way out of the parking lot.

Maybe Rachel had said something, or maybe they were just curious as to why she had left early. _Or maybe they saw the commercial;_ she shuddered, pulling her car onto the road that would lead her directly to her neighborhood.

_This sucks._

The drive home was long, and nerve wracking, and really horrible. When she pulled into her driveway, she shifted the gear to park, twisted her keys out of the ignition and sunk back into the seat, fighting back a new wave of terror and tears. Her father's Escalade was parked next to her, in the spot that was almost empty. It felt like an omen, a testament to the horror that was surely about to ensue. Her father was extremely Catholic, just as her mother had been and her grandparents on both side, as well.

_It's now or never._

XxXxXxX

She closed the door quietly behind her, still hoping this was all a horrible dream.

She heard the refrigerator door slam.

It wasn't.

"Santana," her father's deep voice boomed as she walked into the kitchen.

"Hi, Papi…" she said quietly. She could hear the TV, the commercial, playing in the living room, making this whole situation painfully surreal.

He glared at her, long and hard. There was no love in his eyes, no understanding. Nothing but anger and… and… _disgust._

"Tell me about this commercial."

"Papi, I –"

"No!" He shouted, "There will be no excuses! I did not raise a.. a.. a _lesbian." _

Santana felt her eyes start to burn again; he took a hard step towards her and she took a shaky one back, running into the kitchen table.

"When were you going to tell me? Or were you? I had to find out that my daughter is this… this disgrace on the television! On my day off! What is this? Is this some phase because your mother or what?"

"No, Papi! I," She swallowed, tears spilling over and her voice cracking, "Papi I love girls like I am supposed to love boys," she finished quietly. He slammed his fist on the counter, his face turning bright red in anger, and she jumped. _Oh, shit._

"I did not raise you to be an abomination! You are a disgrace to this family and a shame to God!" Mr. Lopez screamed angrily before taking another step towards her, and giving her an up close and personal view of his fist.

**A/N: What up, cliff hanger. Sorry 'bout that, but I'll have the next chapter up soon. I promise. 3**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey all! I'm gettin' my update on tonight, if you couldn't tell. **

**Major trigger warning though! Lots of abuse and insinuation of violence in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Brittany picked up her phone halfway through the first ring.

"Santana?" All eyes in the room were on her immediately.

"Br…Britt? C-can.. I need… I need you," her voice was strained; weak enough to send a shiver down Brittany's spine.

"San, honey, what's going on?" her voice was filling with panic. Rachel and Quinn looked from one another and back to Brittany, ready to jump out of their skin.

"P-p-park, Britt… Please…"

The line went dead.

But Brittany was already on her feet and sprinting out the door with Quinn on her heels. The handful of people remaining in the choir room watched in confusion before the commercial started blaring on Schue's TV all over again.

XxXxXxX

"Brittany, let me drive," Quinn protested as she caught the other girl's wrist and pulled her back towards the red bug that they'd passed two rows ago. Brittany was as white as a ghost as she climbed in to the car shakily. Quinn started the engine and they were pulling out in no time.

"Where are we going?"

"P-park behind Santana's house."

"What did she say?"

"She didn't… she sounded… I don't know…" Brittany stammered, unable to process what was happening; her beautiful, sweet, strong Santana had sounded so…

"Broken."

Quinn drove as fast as she could safely, blazing through a few stop signs when no one else was around. Santana hadn't been answering her phone in hours, not since Sue had pulled her from rehearsal. They had finished running through their set list before the entire club walked into the choir room to see Santana and a rainbow on Mr. Schue's television; the entire club watched, helpless, as Santana's darkest secret came unraveled.

Brittany had just stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend the pure evil in people. How could they target sweet Santana for some stupid political ad? The whole club was just silent, suspicions confirmed, as they watched Brittany begin to fume. They asked why the girls hadn't told them, Artie turned beet red, Finn still looked constipated. Then Quinn and Rachel had begun trying to comfort Brittany as Kurt tried and tried to get ahold of Santana. And now this.

It had been hours since school had ended, leaving Lima to darkness as the girls pulled up to the park. Brittany's feet were on the pavement before the car had completely stopped and Quinn followed as quickly as should could, not even taking her keys out of the ignition.

"Oh my God," Quinn gasped as she caught sight of Santana's bruised and bloodied face, but Brittany had the unconscious girl in her arms too fast for her to get a good look. "Car, Quinn. My house, please."

The shorter girl complied without a second thought, helping Brittany into the back with Santana so she could hold her all the way home.

Brittany studied the girl's broken face; from what she could see (as minimal as the light was), she had two black eyes forming, the right already more swollen than the other, her lip was split open and her nose and mouth were covered in blood. Blood was also dripping from somewhere in the girl's hair line, but Brittany couldn't really tell where. Santana's jeans were torn, revealing a long gash below her knee that was soaking her jeans in crimson.

Every few minutes, Santana's eyes would start to flutter without quite opening; her mouth would twitch and Brittany would just watch with loving, fearful eyes. _What if she's not okay?_

"B-Britt? What's…" Santana's voice was barely at a whisper, strained and empty. _Broken, _Brittany thought yet again with a shudder.

"Shh, Sanny baby, we're going to my house. We're gonna be okay," the blonde cooed, tightening her hold comfortably around the Latina. Santana hummed her consent and buried herself even further into Brittany's warm body. _God, she looks so sweet_, the blonde thought as tears filled her eyes. How could anyone have hurt such a wonderful, beautiful girl?

Quinn listened to the short exchange in silence, both proud and impressed with how strong Brittany had sounded when soothing the broken girl in the back seat. The other girl had sounded so fragile in only a few words. _Who am I kidding? _She thought to herself, _She's not fragile. She's already shattered. _

They pulled into the Pierce driveway and were out of the car immediately. Quinn helped Brittany with Santana until the latter scooped her into her arms once again and they were off to the front door. Quinn held it open, and Brittany was calling for her mother before she was in the house.

"Mom! First aid kit please! Hurry!" Panic had finally invaded the girl's voice as they sprinted into the living room. Brittany was setting Santana gently on the sofa when Susan Pierce entered the room and gasped at the sight of the usually immaculate teen.

In the light there was more blood and more bruises. Santana had on a silky black button up, so Mrs. Pierce began unbuttoning it as she called, "Todd! Bring the first aid kit! Quickly!"

While the house filled with sounds of Brittany's father tearing through drawers and cabinets, she realized how lucky she was to have such loving and accepting parents, who loved and accepted Santana just as much.

And how lucky they were that Susan Pierce was an emergency nurse.

XxXxXxX

An hour later when Santana was stitched up, cleaned up and tucked safely into Brittany's bed, the Pierce family (minus Courtney, Brittany's 9 year old sister), Rory and Quinn were seated around the kitchen table. Rory had arrived to a makeshift emergency room, half an hour into the operation process, and had been both surprised and disturbed by the condition of the feisty girl. However, he had kept relatively quiet and watched with the girls as the Pierce parents worked, gaining a few brownie points in everyone's opinion. But now, as Todd and Susan looked from each other, to the two girls, Rory had had enough of silence.

"What in God's name 'appened to 'er?"

Brittany swallowed, staring at the table and Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, worry and frustration and panic taking over. The Pierce's looked at one another once more, before Susan spoke.

"Her father saw the commercial, didn't he?"

"We don't know," Quinn breathed, "that's what it seems like. But she just took off during rehearsal because Sue called her in, then she called Brittany and told her to come to the park. She's been like that since we found her."

Brittany nodded slowly, tears spilling down her cheeks, "She just said 'park'. Then she was passed out… "

"Well," Todd sighed, "She's welcome to stay here, Brittany, I know you know that. I guess we'll just have to see when she wakes up." The others nodded their understanding, knowing that nothing could be done until the Latina told them what had really happened.

Quinn's phone started ringing, the buzzing amplified on the hard wood table; she picked it up to see Rachel's name, one of her headshots from last year flashing on the screen. Quinn excused herself silently and walked back into the other room.

"Hey Rachel," she sighed, suddenly exhausted.

"Quinn, what's going on?" the girl's voice was panicked, probably having been worrying for hours.

"Rach… It's bad… She's… I'll talk to you about it at school tomorrow, okay? It's really bad," Quinn sighed, rubbing her face with one hand. Rachel was quiet for a moment before humming her resentful consent.

"Okay Quinn. Just… Let me know if you need anything?"

"Of course. Thanks Rachel… Goodnight."

"Goodnight Quinn."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I'm not gonna lie, this took so long because I was very stuck on how to continue from last chapter.

I know what's going to happen and what needs to happen to get there, but really it's been a bit difficult deciding on how to go about that. But! Here we are. And it's a pretty long one. I do hope you enjoy this, and a very happy New Year to you all!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor any of the music used within this story.

* * *

"Quinn!" she heard her name called through the hallway, just as she slammed her locker door shut. She had reluctantly agreed to leave Brittany's this morning for school, to explain the situation with as little as they knew, to their friends.

She turned her blonde head to the offending voice, to see Rachel approaching, flanked by Kurt and Mercedes. Worry was etched about each of their features as they approached determinedly.

"Hey guys," Quinn greeted weakly. They came to a halt in front of her; the coming questions hanging in the air so close that Quinn could reach out and touch them.

"Quinn, what's going on?" Rachel asked, her voice quiet in the noise of the halls.

"Why did you all leave yesterday?" Kurt demanded, more forcefully than his brunette counterpart.

"Santana… She was at the park – that's where she called Brittany from. We found her… It was awful. We think it was her dad but…"

"Wait, what the _hell _are you talking about, girl?" Mercedes interrupted, "What was her dad?"

"Oh my God," Rachel whispered, her face dropping similar to how it had that day in the choir room, when they'd learned of Santana's secrets. "He… God Quinn, please tell me he didn't…"

"She's so beaten up," Quinn sighed, dropping her eyes to the ground, "It's bad. Britt's mom had to give her stitches and she still wasn't awake when I left this morning."

"Her dad… He hit her?" Kurt said quietly and Quinn nodded. "But… why?"

"He saw that commercial, didn't he?"

Quinn nodded again.

"Why…?"

"The Lopez's have always been very catholic. Her uncle is a priest, if that tells you anything."

"But," Kurt tried protesting, growing more and more angry, and hurt for his friend, "But who cares? She's his _daughter! _It's his job to love and accept her!"

"In some families, yes. But in others, your job as a parent is to produce the most picture perfect, successful kid as you can."

Tears were streaming from four pair of eyes as they stood in silence, Quinn's words sinking in further and further with each passing second. You always heard stories on the internet about kids that came out and were abused and rejected by their parents, but it had always been damn near a fairy tale… Kurt's father had been very accepting, had loved him even though he was gay. So of course he had thought that Santana's father would react similarly. But for him to have hit her, his only daughter?

They all felt sick to their stomachs just thinking about it.

"How bad…?" Mercedes started to ask.

"Awful," Quinn's voice cracked in the word, "She's going to have two black eyes, Mrs. Pierce thinks she may have a fractured cheekbone and bruised ribs. She had to give her stitches, as well."

Rachel cleared her throat haphazardly, "And she's still not awake?"

Quinn shook her head, "She passed out in the car so we don't know exactly what happened… She was still out when I left this morning."

"Can we go see her this afternoon…?" Rachel asked.

"Uh. Well… Let me check with Brittany… Santana… If she's awake…"

"We know, Quinn," Kurt chuckled, "Girl's a bit vain."

For the first time that day, Quinn's mouth quirked up in a smile and she giggled softly, "Just a bit."

"Well let us know, okay Quinn?" Rachel smiled as well, and the blonde girl nodded.

"I will. I'll text Brittany at lunch and find out."

XxXxX

The bruises on Santana's face were starting to set, or so Brittany observed as she sat watching the girl sleep quietly. It was almost noon and she was still asleep, her chest rose and fell steadily beneath the sheets. Occasionally she'd mumble something incoherent, or her eyes would move around behind her eyelids… _God, they're so bruised._

Not a few times had Brittany had to fight back tears, scanning her girl's bruised and battered features. She had to hurt, _so bad. _It would only be worse when she woke up, so hopefully she'd sleep for a long while, no matter how much Brittany wanted to talk to her, to know she would be okay. Even with the bruises, the stitches hidden in her hairline, Brittany thought that Santana was the most beautiful girl in the world. Her skin, where unmarred, was still that beautiful, creamy caramel color and she was sure her eyes would still be chocolate and intoxicating when she woke up.

The blonde sighed, running her eyes back over the sleeping face one last time before leaning back against the pillow and closing her eyes for a moment – a little cat nap couldn't hurt anything.

XxXxX

_It was the summer before junior year, the best summer that Brittany could remember. She looked around Santana's car, the leather interior of the convertible Mustang, top down, curly raven hair flowing in the wind. It was like a dream, and Brittany had to smile. The best kind of dream._

_The drive-in movie theater wasn't too far out of Lima – just a half hour drive east of the little town. Even so, Brittany loved the drive. She loved to see Santana smiling behind her Ray Ban sunglasses, her skin bare in her off-shoulder t-shirt from a cheer camp early that summer and ripped dark skinny jeans. She was beautiful in a way that Brittany couldn't quite describe. It was intoxicating, kind of like the chocolate wine they'd had a few weeks ago on Santana's roof._

_The two girls sang loudly as they drove, Train's "Hey, Soul Sister" blasting on the radio. Country and trees blew by on both sides, revealing the sun as it began to set._

_"It's beautiful," Brittany commented, smiling at the vast open space._

_"Yeah, you are," the Latina responded and Brittany could only smile a ridiculous happy smile. She laced her fingers between Santana's on the latter's lap and she squeezed, bringing yet another smile to Brittany's lips. _

_"Nope, you're the beautiful one here!"_

_"Psshht!" Santana snorted incredulously, "No way. It's all you, babe."_

XxXxX

_"Santana?" Brittany called as she cut into the backyard through the gate. "Santana can we talk?"_

_The brunette in question sat up from her tanning chair next to the pool, setting the copy of To Kill a Mockingbird that she was reading for the umpteenth time next to her._

_"I don't want to talk to you Brittany."_

_"San, please."_

_"Stop, Brittany," she growled, now on her feet. She spun to face the blonde with an angry glare on her face, but hurt coursed through her eyes. "I really don't want to talk. You made your choice."_

_"Santana," Brittany sighed, "Please? Just hear me out?"_

_The girl's glare softened as she shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. She crossed her arms over her chest, the bikini she wore showing off the caramel skin and flat muscle of her abdomen. Brittany swallowed and looked at the ground instead; she was in trouble, she wasn't allowed to look at Santana like that._

_"San… You're not… You aren't comfortable with yourself. You weren't, at least… And Artie… He was really sweet to me and he really does care about me. Please don't hate me. I just…"_

_"Brittany," Santana sighed, looking at everything but the girl in front of her, "I told you. I told you that I loved you. And you chose _him. _You didn't say you loved me back. I told you I loved you, and the next day I walk in and you're on _his _lap."_

_"Santana I do love you! I can't," she sighed in frustration, "I can't get you out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, you're there and you won't go away. But then you won't talk to me! What about last summer, when we went to the drive-in every week and it was just us?" No answer. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ruined everything, but I do love you!"_

_"But you're with him."_

_"Santana…"_

_"If you loved me, you wouldn't be with him."_

_"San… Please. I love you_. I. Love. You._ But... But I love Artie, too. And I can't just leave him like that, not now. That wouldn't be fair."_

_"_This _isn't fair, Brittany. Not to me. I'm sorry… Just… Please leave, okay? I can't do this."_

_"I'm sorry Santana… I love you…" And with tears in her eyes, Brittany turned and left the Lopez residence. _

_She had really ruined things, now._

XxXxX

"B-Britt?"

Brittany shot up straight, erasing those dreams from her mind.

"San?"

"Britt…." The girl croaked, her voice soft and raspy, "I hurt."

"I know baby, I know. You're gonna be okay," Brittany soothed, running a hand through dark, raven hair.

"Brittany?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I love you."


	13. Chapter 13

_"Britt?"_

_"Yeah, honey?"_

_"I love you."_

XxXxX

Tears filled blue eyes, threatening to pour over and she sniffled quietly, "I love you too, San. I love you so, so much."

"Brittany… How bad…?" Santana's voice was still so quiet, barely above a whisper. Brittany could hear the pain and the fear in her words, as well. She wanted to know what had really happened, but that could wait.

"It's not… San… You're beautiful, you know that?"

"B, please? Just tell me…"

"I… Oh, San…" she sighed and closed her eyes, "You're really beaten up, babe… What happened?"

This time it was Santana who swallowed, her throat dry and sore. Tears filled her eyes, dripping down on her bruised cheeks as she remembered the events of the previous night – _or had it been longer?_

"Britt, how long have I been asleep?"

Brittany checked the clock on the bedside table – 3 o'clock. "Since last night. You passed out in Quinn's car." Santana nodded slowly, closing her eyes gently with a sigh. Of course Quinn had seen her like this. _Great…_

"I guess… Well Sue, she pulled me out during rehearsal, right?" Brittany nodded. "So she showed me… I mean, you've seen it haven't you? The commercial?" Another nod. "She showed that to me. And I got a text from my dad, telling me to come home. So I did… And he…" Tears streamed from chocolate eyes and she wasn't sure she could go on. Brittany wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her to her, as gently as she could manage.

"San, you don't have to…"

"No," the brunette sniffled, "No… I… He told me I was… I'm a disgrace… and then he…" She gestured to her face through the tears, burrowing further into the blonde's body. How could this have happened?

Brittany's heart was burning, this newfound anger making it hard to think straight. How could someone fucking do this? Santana Lopez, a _disgrace? _God, if she ever got her hands on Santana's father… _No, _she resolved with an internal sigh, _she needs me now. Mr. Lopez can wait._

"Sanny, baby," Brittany soothed, locking her arms around the broken frame, "Sanny you are not a disgrace. You are beautiful and talented and…" she couldn't stop the tears, full of anger and hurt, and _fear_, that coursed from her eyes and down her cheeks. She started sniffling too, but fought to speak through the tears, "Santana you are so amazing. I am so sorry, San. I am so, so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Her words were muffled through tears and Brittany's shirt, but she heard her nonetheless.

"It's not _your _fault, Santana."

A light knock at the door interrupted their moment, and Susan Pierce entered, poking her head through the door first. Her blue eyes, so similar to Brittany's, lit up when she saw Santana awake.

"Hey, sleeping beauties," she called across the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Hi mom." "Hi Mrs. Pierce." Both voices sounded broken and tired. Sympathy pooled in the older woman's eyes as she watched the girls, perched carefully on the foot of the bed.

"How are you feeling, Santana?" She asked, the concern in her voice evident.

"'M okay, considering," she earned a sharp look from the nurse, "Okay, I'm very sore," she was quieter now, "Everything hurts…"

"I'll get you some pain killers, okay? And I made mac 'n cheese for dinner, if you're hungry. I know it's your favorite."

Santana smiled at the woman in front of her and bowed her head in thanks, "Thank you so much, Ms. Susan. And thank you for taking care of me…"

"Anytime, sweetheart," Mrs. Pierce winked at the girls as she departed in search of painkillers and dinner. Brittany kept her eyes trained on Santana, still keeping an arm wrapped protectively around the broken girl's shoulders as her mother left. Hopefully Santana would eat something and feel a little bit better. But she needed to rest; Brittany wouldn't let the girl leave bed for at least a few days.

A loud buzzing, accompanied by Britney Spears's "Toxic" cut into the thoughtful silence of the room, causing Brittany to jump. "Oh, ummm…" She hummed as she dug under the sheets and into her pocket for the offending cell phone.

"Hey Q," she said quickly once she'd answered.

"Hey B. How is she?"

"Very much awake," Brittany chuckled at Santana's suspicious expression.

"Oh, awesome! Well hey, uh, some of the glee-clubbers wanted to come see her…?" The voice on the other line sounded nervous, and Brittany could understand why; they were probably underestimating how injured Santana really was.

"Who is it?"

"Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes…"

"Well… Let me ask…" Brittany covered the receiver of her cell phone with her hand and looked at Santana. "Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes wanted to come see you…?"

A pained expression crossed Santana's face, her eyes filling with sadness and nerves. "B… I don't… I probably look awful…"

"Sanny, you know they won't mind. They will understand," she looked into those chocolate eyes and found all of the fear in the world, and it hurt the blonde's heart. She put the phone back up to her ear without waiting for an answer, "Quinn? Yeah, maybe tomorrow. San needs to rest tonight… Love you too. Bye, Q."

"B, you didn't have to…"

"If you're not ready, then you're not ready, honey," Brittany said sweetly, her voice soft and gentle. She ran her fingertips lightly over the darker girl's cheek, careful not to put any pressure on her bruises. Santana snuggled further into Brittany, ignoring the pain shooting down her leg and through her ribs for just a moment, just to be a little bit closer…

"I love you, B," she whispered into her neck.

"I love you too, S," Brittany pressed her lips into dark hair sweetly.

XxXxX

Santana took a few bites out of her mac 'n cheese before she lost her appetite; she was a little bit nauseated to begin with and the heavy dairy irritated her stomach even more. The longer she was awake, the more her ribs hurt and the more her leg hurt. Actually, the more everything hurt. Brittany was being accommodating, maybe a bit too much so for Santana's taste. She didn't want to feel like an invalid, but Brittany hadn't even let her see her face yet.

She couldn't help but wonder how bad it was; everything hurt, she couldn't open her eyes all the way and her face just felt swollen. It was horribly uncomfortable, and she really just wanted to see the damage. Sort of. She was dreading it a little bit, too.

Mrs. Pierce had brought her some water, so her throat felt a little bit better, and the painkillers were helping her stiff joints to unwind. She felt like an eighty-year-old man, with all of the pain and soreness that she was experiencing. But lying with Brittany, watching The Little Mermaid was helping quite a bit. Brittany was acting relatively normal, aside from her occasional teary eyes that she'd blink away within a second.

But she really wanted to see her face, to see why Brittany was so sad.

"Hey Britt?" she whispered.

"Hmm, yeah Sanny?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

Brittany looked over at her, eyes narrowed, "Do you really?"

"Wh-What kind of question is that?" She stammered nervously. Of course, Brittany would see through right through her.

But instead of questioning further, the blonde just nodded somberly and got to her feet, holding her hands out to Santana. The smaller girl slid her own hands into the gentle grip, wrapping her fingers around thin, pale wrists and hoisting herself to her feet. Brittany raised an eyebrow, asking if she was alright and Santana offered a short nod and a small smile, despite the burn that had set through her bones.

"I'm okay," she stated, more for her own sake than Brittany's.

Brittany didn't let go of her hands all the way into the bathroom, and position them to where they walked in with Santana's back to the mirror, a grimace plastered uncharacteristically about her features.

"Santana, are you sure…?"

"I need to see it, B," she said gently, pulling the other girl closer. Her back was against the sink, and soon Brittany was but inches from her front. "Thank you so much Britt. You are so sweet," she leaned forward and caught plump, pink lips in her own, caressing them lightly and gently for but a moment before pulling back and staring into the pools of blue that caught her eyes. "Please?" She whispered. Brittany nodded reluctantly, visibly swallowing as her hands spun Santana gently, placed lovingly on her hips. She set her chin on the shorter girl's shoulder as she took in her own broken experience.

Tears filled Santana's eyes as she examined the damage. Her face was painted different shades of black and blue, two black eyes and stitches in her hair line, as well as a split lip. She looked awful.

Brittany had seriously understated how bad her face had looked – how was she still looking at her? How was she still kissing her?

_So now I'm an ugly abomination. Awesome._

"Santana, stop that. Now. I'm serious," Brittany said, her voice quiet but firm as she pulled her back to face her and kissed the tears off of her cheeks. "You're so beautiful, so so beautiful honey. And nothing, no one could ever change that."

"B-Britt…" the brunette choked through her tears and buried herself in her girlfriend, clinging desperately to her t-shirt as she began to sob. Brittany choked back her own tears, wrapping her arms around the broken girl and rubbing her back gently.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's okay." She kissed her hair gently, soothing the girl as best she knew how.

"Sanny, baby, you are so beautiful. We're gonna get through this, I promise."

"Y-You promise?"

"I promise, babe."


	14. Chapter 14

**Alright. This one is super short, but it's kind of a springboard into the next few chapters. Bear with me! Y'all are great, though. 3**

"How is she?" Quinn asked quietly, glancing at the closed bedroom door and back at the sad blue eyes in front of her.

It had been three days since they had found their friend, bruised and bloodied in the park. Quinn had been over every day after school and spent the night each night. Brittany was slated to return to McKinley the next day, but both girls were wary about that; neither wanted to leave the battered Latina alone for more than a second.

Brittany shrugged in response to Quinn's question, still eyeing the three figures behind her friend suspiciously. Of course, they were her friends as well, but maybe this wasn't a good idea. What if Santana became upset? She was always so self-conscious. And now, with her bruised features and perceived ugliness… This could end very poorly.

But the girl needed to know that the others cared, and Brittany's word wasn't enough to convince her of that.

"She was just waking up when you texted me. Just… Guys don't stare okay?" Brittany directed the last portion to Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes, the trio looking dumbfounded at the current situation. Who wouldn't be, though? Brittany still didn't know what to think most of the time.

"How bad…?" Mercedes began, but Quinn shook her head, effectively cutting her off. Brittany swallowed visibly and pushed the door open.

"Hey Britt-Britt, how are – oh god. Uhh…" She stammered when the three new visitors entered. At this point, she was comfortable with Quinn being around, but Rachel and the diva posse…

"Hey Santana," Rachel said gently as they approached. She could see it in their faces; they were trying not to react to her current state. But it was hard, and she knew it. The bruises looked worse and worse every day, but at least she was feeling more mobile. Soon maybe, she'd look okay enough to go to school, or at least help Mrs. Pierce around the house. Sitting around was driving her up a wall.

"Hey guys," she answered quietly, looking down at her hands on the blanket and playing with her fingers idly.

"How are you feeling?" Mercedes asked, the quietest that Santana – or anyone in the room, for that matter – had ever heard from her.

Santana just shrugged, still staring at her hands. "Better than before, I guess."

The room was quiet for a moment before Rachel cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence that was settling over the group. "We're glad you're okay Santana. You know we're here for you, right?" She ended a little awkwardly, but everyone was nodding, assenting to Rachel's support.

"We have your back, girl. Whatever you need," Mercedes added, more confident than before.

Santana smiled weakly, touched by her friends' support. "Thank you, really," she said quietly, fighting tears once again. "You guys… I love you."

It was silent again as the teenagers processed what they'd just heard; it wasn't as if they'd never heard that from their other friends. But it was Santana, cold, hard, angry Santana who never had anything nice to say to anyone besides Brittany. And she had just said "I love you," to Rachel and Kurt and Mercedes… But most surprisingly, was Rachel.

"We love you too, honey," Quinn said as her eyes flooded with tears and sat next to the girl on the bed. The others all nodded furiously. Brittany watched from the doorway, tearing up a little at the exchange; Santana had come so far since the beginning of the year. She'd reconciled with Rachel, forgiven the Glee club… but now… The world kept throwing her curveballs, and Brittany wasn't sure how much more that Santana could take.

But maybe it would be okay. Hopefully, it would be all be okay.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello attractive humans. **

**Again, I am sorry for the wait. But this one is longer so hey! Kinda made up for it. Thank y'all so much for all of the love.**

**In other news... I have like 5034523452 ideas for other fics so I may or may not be starting a new one really soon. Keep an eye out!**

**Otherwise, enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Brittany! You're back!" Mike called happily down the hall when he spotted the blonde hair at her locker.

"Yeah," she called back with a distracted smile; Mike frowned, her distance catching him off guard.

"Are you okay?"

She shrugged as she filled her bag with a few books and a notebook, "Yeah, I guess so."

"How is she?" he asked carefully, a little afraid of what she might say. Of course they'd heard bits and pieces from Quinn, and even some more detail – mostly about how beat up Santana looked, how sorry Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes felt for her – from the three divas that had visited with Quinn the week before. But as worried as Mike was about the feisty Latina that he had come to love over the years, he was even more concerned about the girl in front of him. Brittany lived for Santana, even when she had been with Artie. He could recall countless dance rehearsals ending with the blonde lying on the floor, sometimes sobbing, wanting nothing more than to make Santana happy.

Even before that, Mike had watched her falling in love with Santana over and over again for years. He remembered times in middle school, where all that she could talk about was Santana this, Santana that… It was incredibly cute, if somewhat annoying. But Brittany never got like that, so it was nothing short of amazing to wash her gush and blush about it later.

So, even in his worry for Santana, his horror that her father could possibly hurt her after all that they'd been through, his current concern was Brittany. She needed to be okay to move forward and help the girl that she loved.

But when he asked the question, and her eyes flooded with tears, he knew that she was far from it.

"Brittany," he held his arms open and she fell into them, tears slipping down her cheeks as she fought to control them. He held her tight and rubbed her back gently, letting her cry as long as she needed.

"It's so bad, Mike," she sniffled, "she's so… How could… How could anyone _do that? _She's so sweet, she's so, so beautiful and he just… How could he?"

"I dunno Britt," he said gently, "I really don't. But she'll be okay, she will. She just needs you, and she needs us." She bobbed her head into his chest and he held her tighter.

Quinn was approaching from Mike's front, slowing down as she took in the sight of a bawling Brittany. Mike nodded to her subtly, a gesture for her to continue – Brittany needed her friend right now. The shorter blonde hurried forward and set a gently hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her spine.

"It's just me, B," she whispered when the crying girl's back stiffened. She relaxed back into the touch, slowly recomposing herself. After a moment, she pulled back from Mike, tugging her Cheerios uniform back into place.

"Thank you," she said quietly and rubbed her eyes. The bell rang; they set off to class – all headed to their English IV course that they had together, usually with Santana as well.

Today was going to be a long day.

XxXxXxX

There was never anything interesting on TV anymore. Even Netflix was lacking any really good shows or movies that she hadn't seen twenty times. She settled for an episode of That 70's Show that she'd seen before, but that was okay. Mrs. Pierce had left her lunch – more mac 'n cheese, God bless that woman – before leaving for work.

The Pierce's were so good to her. Courtney was always sitting in with the girls, watching movies and running to grab them popcorn and sodas every time anyone asked. Mrs. Pierce brought Brittany and Santana every meal, never once asking a thing of either of them, and Mr. Pierce would pop in with a corny joke and glasses of sweet tea every once and a while. Even Rory had hung out with them here and there, actually being sweet and sort of bearable.

She didn't know what she would do without this family.

Now that Brittany was going back to school, Santana thought that she'd probably start working on homework and try to get back soon. Her face was starting to look better. In a couple of days she could just smear on some make up and get by at school. Dancing with Glee would be difficult, but probably do-able. Knowing Schuester, he wouldn't give her a day's rest that he didn't have do.

God. Glee club.

She definitely wasn't ready to deal with that. When Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes had come up to see her, they'd been bearable. And once they had calmed down and stopped acting so awkward, it had actually been sort of fun. But the rest of the club…. Christ.

Okay, she was pretty sure that Blaine, Mike and Tina would be okay. Obviously Brittany, Rachel, Quinn, Kurt and Mercedes were as well. They'd be sad and probably a little careful… And Brittany would be as protective as possible, of course. Puck would be pissed and want to murder her dad. He actually might murder her dad, knowing him. She wasn't too sure about Teen Jesus (did he have a name?)… He might try and be all, peace, love and powder puff as usual, which Santana really didn't have an issue with; she kind of liked the guy. Even Sam would probably be alright – he was kind of sweet, even if he kind of pissed her off occasionally.

But that is where the pleasantries end.

Artie and Finn, and probably Schuester were the problem here. Finn… Okay, she'd been pretty awful to Finn. He was an asshole though. If he hadn't copped this regal, better-than-thou attitude from the get-go, she wouldn't have had an issue with him. But instead of being a nice guy, he took his role as Glee Captain as a doorway to douchebaggery. Even Brittany hated him and the attitude that he took towards the Glee Clubbers.

Artie was another asshole. He hated Santana simply because Brittany loved her more than she ever had him. But he took that as a chance to be a total dick to her, and she didn't really appreciate that.

Schuester was hit and miss, but the fact that he hated Santana for no real reason really frustrated her. She could have liked the guy if he wasn't such a favoritist dickhead. But from the first day, when she'd walked in behind Quinn with a Cheerios uniform and her no shit attitude, he'd hated her. He had warmed to Quinn and Brittany, taking them under his wing almost, but not Santana. He tried to understand everyone it seemed, besides her.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the pillow and looking out the window. It had finally begun to snow, after the weathermen had teased for days; the biggest snowflakes that she'd ever seen floated past the window and to the ground, building up into drifts on the road and the pretty landscaping of Brittany's front yard. It was beautiful, and Santana momentarily wondered if Brittany had stopped to look at it today. She hoped so; Brittany loved snow, even though it was cold and wet, she thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

She hoped that she was having a good day at school. The blonde hadn't been too keen on leaving this morning, near tears when she'd finally left. It broke Santana's heart, seeing her so distraught because of her predicament.

Ha. Predicament.

_What the hell am I supposed to do?_

She figured she could go back to school within the week if she really set her mind to it; the swelling would go down, she could cover the bruises with foundation and wear her Cheerios sweats instead of the skirt. She'd be alright. And she was sure that Sue would understand – that woman had a tendency to pull through just when it was needed.

Hopefully the others would pull through as well.

Santana sighed, she'd been doing an awful lot of hoping lately.

XxXxX

Quinn's arm was around Brittany's waist when they walked into the choir room side by side. The taller girl half-smiled at the rest of the glee club when they greeted her with excited cheers and sympathetic eyes. Even Mr. Schuester walked up and wrapped his arms around Brittany, pulling her into a very paternal hug.

"It's good to have you back, Brittany," he said with his loud, but gentle voice. The two girls sat in the front row, far from Finn and Artie who were huddled silently in the corner of the room.

"Well, now that we have the whole group back together, it's time to get ready for regionals!" The man declared, too cheery and too excited over what Brittany thought would be another lackluster set-list.

Especially without Santana here to help pass the time.

"Actually, Mr. Schue…" Rachel began, eliciting an exhausted sigh from the curly headed man. "Rachel, we really need to…"

"I know, I know. But, as we all know, I'll probably be getting the solo one again…"

The room erupted in sighs and tired groans, all too accustomed to Rachel's ego taking the floor.

"Guys! Shut up!" Quinn shouted over the noise, immediately bringing the room into a surprised silence, "Let her talk."

Quinn was protecting Rachel? What the hell?

"Thank you, Quinn," the brunette smiled gratefully before hopping back on her soapbox, "Anyways, as I was saying… I think that the solo this time… Should go to Santana."

The room was dead silent, aside from a few misplaced gasps, as all eyes fell on Brittany. Her eyes narrowed – what was Rachel playing at?

_When did I start thinking like this?_

"Uh… Rachel…" Mercedes because skeptically before being cut off by the sound of wheels racing to the center of the room.

"Oh, HELL to the no! What the hell has gotten into you people?" Artie shouted angrily, looking from one face to the next. "Are you that stupid? Hand her a fucking solo? Maybe that bitch got what she deserved for once!"

Brittany swelled with anger immediately, jumping to her feet, surprised to find Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt at her side, with Rachel not far behind.

"Would you just shove it already, Artie?" Quinn growled. They were all glaring at the boy, now near cowering in his wheel chair. Mr. Schuester started forward but was stopped with an angry glare from Kurt.

"What's there to shove?" the boy growled back

"This stupid, self-righteous attitude!" Kurt shouted angrily, "Are you really this disgusting of a person?"

"Really Artie. This club is about tolerance and forgiveness, but most importantly loving each other," Rachel said quietly.

"Loving her? When did you all just forget what she's done! She deserved this! She deserved worse!"

"Do you even understand what you're saying?" Brittany began, overcome with anger and tears filling her eyes. "You haven't _seen_ her, you bastard. You don't know. You don't know how she feels, how I feel, what's really going on. You hate her because I chose her over you," Artie cringed at that sentence, everyone's eyes locked on Brittany, "_but get the hell over it_. She didn't deserve this – nobody does. But Santana is good, and Santana is kind and beautiful and so sweet but you don't see it – she tried with you, she did, more than anyone else in this room, but you just hate her for because of me."

The room was silent, all eyes on Brittany. Nervous. Scared. _Proud._

They had seen more anger and passion from this girl in the past few months than they had seen in four years. Quinn was damn proud of how far she'd come, even though it had been forced by these less than ideal circumstances. But Brittany and Santana were both very strong themselves, and together were unstoppable.

They'd be okay eventually.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So.. This is very, very long. Which I hope will somewhat make up for the time between updates. I really am sorry about that. My schedule is absurd. Anyways! A TON happens in this chapter... Sort of. Important things do, at least. WARNING ABOUT THE LANGUAGE THOUGH. Gets a bit dicey towards the end. So just so you know. **

**Onwards! :)**

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, Brittany, I'm positive."

"Santana, please, you really don't have to."

"Britt," Santana laid her hands gently on Brittany's shoulders, just squeezing slightly, "I'm sure, baby. I need this."

"I'm sure you don't have to just yet," the blonde pleaded, resting her hands on her girlfriend's hips. "Please Sanny."

"Brittany," Santana chuckled softly and placed a soft kiss on the girl's lips, "I want to. I'll be okay."

"I just.. San…" Brittany sighed, "Okay. Fine. Just… You have all your classes with me and Quinn, right?"

"Yes, baby," Santana smiled, her heart constricting with her girlfriend's worry. She was too sweet.

Brittany nodded resolutely, looking at Santana in her black skinny jeans and Brittany's varsity cheer jacket. Her hair fell on her shoulders in the most beautiful waves and her makeup covered the bruises expertly. When Brittany had come back from getting ready that morning, she found Santana dressed and ready to go, pretty as ever. She shook her head, not only concerned but amazed by the beautiful girl in front of her.

Who'd have thought they'd ever be in this situation?

Brittany drove them to school, wary of the day to come. She hadn't gotten to let Quinn know that Santana was coming today, instead caught up in making sure that the girl was comfortable, and calculating what they had left to do. Santana had left a few pieces of clothing at Brittany's house over the years, including those jeans, but she'd need some more stuff. They could probably sneak into the Lopez residence while Mr. Lopez was at work.. Or at least Brittany and Quinn could, if Santana wasn't up for it.

She'd ask after school today.

And then there was glee. Artie had been quiet about his distaste for Santana since Brittany had told him off last week. Finn was also rather quiet about the issue and it had been decided that Santana would sing the solo at regionals… whether she knew it or not. Brittany was surprised that Rachel had offered it up, but she assumed that seeing Santana so broken and vulnerable had played her heart strings.

"Britty?" the blonde felt a hand on her forearm, the thumb rubbing gentle circles into her jacket.

"Y-yeah babe?"

"Get out of your head, sweetheart."

Brittany smiled, glancing over at the beautiful girl in the passenger's seat, her heart constricting ever so slightly. Behind all of the make-up and the careful smile, she could see the fear in those chocolate eyes.

"I love you, Santana. Today is going to be fine," she soothed as they pulled into the parking lot. Santana nodded and swallowed hard, pulling her hands into her lap to wring them nervously. Brittany parked next to Quinn's bug, where the latter was still seated tapping out something on her phone.

She looked up when Brittany had parked and waved, her expression becoming confused when she saw who was in the passenger's seat.

The red door swung open quickly and Quinn was at the window, anger and worry etched over her pale features. She pulled open Santana's door and took a step back, crossing her arms and glaring at the brunette.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uhm…" Santana smiled sheepishly and shrugged, not sure what to say to the fuming blonde.

"She wanted to come to school today," Brittany stated as blankly as she could. _Better to seem indifferent._

"And why didn't you tell me? Santana this is not a good idea! You're still hurt, and who knows what could happen! You're not in the sort of shape to – "

"To what, Quinn?" the Latina snapped, growing angry at Quinn's patronizing rambling. "To deal with the bitches in this joint? I eat losers like them for breakfast and you know that. I can handle it." Her tone changed, growing gentler and less sure of herself for a moment, "Besides, every class I have, either you or Britt are in. I have Puck, too. I'll be okay. And if all else fails, I can hide in Gingersnap's office."

Quinn's face softened and she nodded, swallowing hard. "I still wish you'd told me."

Santana shrugged, frowning defiantly and Brittany smiled apologetically; Quinn's lips slowly twisted into a smile as she reached her hand out to her friend. "Come on, bitch. We have to get to English." Santana giggled and took Quinn's hand, hopping gingerly out of the vehicle and into her friend's arms. "Love you too, San," the blonde giggled and Brittany was soon joining, jumping happily into the middle of the hug and wrapping both girls up.

"Big happy family!" Brittany laughed, bringing giggles from the other two as well. They stayed that way for a moment until Santana cleared her throat, "I love you girls… But this is starting to hurt."

Quinn and Brittany immediately let go and nearly jumped away, causing Santana to roll her eyes and stick her tongue out. "You saps."

"Santana… You don't have a backpack." Quinn observed, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Santana drawled, rolling her eyes once more. "Who needs that crap," she said over her shoulder as she set off towards the school, her two best friends laughing behind her.

Quinn glanced carefully from Santana's cocky strut to Brittany's sparkling blue eyes. Every few steps you could catch a slight limp in San's step, and Brittany's eyes grew sadder and sadder as they walked, but the two played it off well. By no means would the next few weeks be easy; even so, maybe the two of them would come out alright. They were strong and stubborn, and very smart, and she knew they'd never back down.

She watched as Mike ran up and wrapped an arm around Santana, spinning the tiny girl around while they both laughed. Brittany ran up and jumped on Mike's back and planted a friendly kiss right on the top of his head.

They were smiling and laughing, and that's all that Quinn could ask for right now. That was somewhere to begin.

XxXxX

The looks were driving her crazy.

She tried not to notice, but there was no point – people were everywhere, and they were all staring. Of course they were, though; she'd just been booted out of the closet on public television. And no matter how little she spoke or how much she shook her hair in front of her face, there they were. Staring. Every time.

She was in her calculus class, sitting between Mike and Quinn and tapping aimlessly on the worksheet in front of her. It was only fourth period, but none of her teachers seemed too happy to see her. They'd just glare or snub her off, blankly hand her the homework she'd missed with no real acknowledgment.

It's not like she wasn't used to it, but still.

She watched carefully as the door opened and Becky ran up to the teacher, handing him a note on bright red paper – _Coach Sue, duh _– and stalked back out, shooting Santana a weird look on the way.

_Okay then._

"Miss Lopez," he said with obvious distaste, giving her a narrow look over the top of the note, "to Ms. Sylvester's office. Now."

She pushed herself up out of the chair, shrugging at a concerned Quinn as she went. Santana was just glad to get out of there. "I'll see you guys at lunch."

She took the note, offering him a small, unreturned, smile and pushing out the door as fast as she could.

Sue's office wasn't too far from the math hall, and Santana walked in without knocking, smiling hesitantly at her coach and taking the seat that was gestured to.

"Lopez."

"Coach…?"

"I truly am sorry about what happened. Fabray filled me in while you and Brittany were out," Sue said, watching the young Latina carefully. She didn't want to offend the girl, or to have her on Quinn's tail for fessing up; she was only trying to help.

When Santana didn't react, Sue continued, "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Santana displayed a sad smirk as she formed her answer, "Sore. Angry. Hurt. I'm having nightmares and it drives me crazy that Britt and Quinn and everyone are treating me like I'm glass. But I understand, and I know I'd do the same thing for them." Sue nodded, her eyes watching the cheerleader very carefully. Santana was visibly stiff; she couldn't move her arms too much and she'd walked into the office with a slight limp.

Whether Coach Sylvester would ever admit it to her or not, she'd always admired the teenager. She still remembered the ninth grade girl, fresh from her mother's funeral and driven to prove a point. She was ruthless, relentless, and blossomed into a fierce leader and a beautiful young woman. In reality, she reminded Sue a bit of herself. She watched the girl grow alongside her friends and peers, file through boyfriends (though she'd suspected the girl's sexuality for some time), and prepare for her future, always headstrong, always ruthless, but with a quiet loving side that no one ever suspected. She'd been in Sue's office many times, pleading the case of the glee club in secret. She made the Secret Santa bags for the cheer squad every year. But no one ever saw that side of the Santana Lopez; they only saw the anger and disdain, the biting sarcasm that she chose to portray to the outside.

With that in mind, seeing Santana in such a vulnerable state really worried the cheer coach. Her head cheerleader was admitting weakness, something she'd never heard from the girl up to now. Not even Quinn Fabray's debriefing could have prepared her for the broken girl in front of her.

Sylvester knew that she needed to tread lightly from this point forward, but there were certain things that did need to be addressed. She bit her lip and frowned, wording her questions carefully. "Have you had any contact…?"

"No," Santana answered quickly, masking the pain in her eyes carefully. "I haven't.. He hasn't… I have my phone, but that's all."

Sue nodded, "No clothes? Nothing from home?" Santana shook her head and motioned to what she was currently wearing, "This is all either stuff I left at Britt's, or hers." Sue nodded again.

"Are you planning on filing a police report?"

Santana blanched, staring blankly at the desk with wide eyes, "I… I hadn't really…"

"Santana," Coach Sylvester said as carefully as she could to proceed, "You need to talk to the police. What your father did, it's very much a crime. He _hurt _you, Santana. That can't be ignored."

The girl nodded slowly, absorbing what her coach was saying. She hadn't really thought about it. And really, she didn't _want _to think about it. "Can I give it some thought? I dunno… I just need some time."

Sue nodded and smiled, "It's good to see you back, Lopez. Now get out of my office."

Santana smiled as she left, the familiarity of her cheer coach knocking her back towards a normal mindset. She'd always loved Sue, in a sadistic mother-daughter masochistic kind of way. She walked down the empty hallway, a little more bounce in her step than before.

"Hey Lezpez!"

Or at least she'd thought it was empty.

She turned around to find Derek Robinson, a sophomore football player approaching, his gait cocky and sloppy – what a tool – letter jacket on, and a bright red slushy cup in hand.

"Shouldn't you be in class, sophomore?" she shot back, an expression of boredom and disgust crossing her features.

"Mmm yeah, probably. But I heard that my services were needed out here." He approached her, leaning against one hand on a locker, right by her head.

"Services? What services? Clearly showering isn't one of them."

"Ha! Very funny," he smirked, his horrible little face scrunching up. Now that she thought about it, he looked something like a pug. But not the cute pugs; the ones that looked like their faces had been hit with a bus.

"Actually, I'm here because good ol' Senator Carlton told me that you're a bit, ahh… Confused."

_Oh, shit._

"I just wanted to help you clear that up, y'know… I really think I could show you and your little girlfriend a real man," he took another step closer and she swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around her torso in defense. "You see, you've just never really _been _with a real man. Sure Puck is cool and all, but he's got nothing," another step forward, "on," another, "me."

The lunch bell rang and students flooded the hall, but it didn't so much as phase the boy, and he kept at her.

Derek had Santana pinned against the lockers, one arm on the locker and the other holding his slushy. He was too close – maybe an inch between them as he stood over her. She squeezed her arms even tighter, pressing back against the locker as far as she could.

"Back off. Seriously."

He dropped a hand from the locker, resting it on her waist and inching it down further and further. "You don't want that," he hissed into her ear, "You don't want to be a freak. I'm gonna show you a real man, I'll make you normal again, don't you worry."

Santana froze, squeezing her eyes shut as his hand cupped over her butt. It felt wrong, disgusting – he was disgusting. She couldn't breathe. "B-b-back o-ff-f-f," she stammered. Was anyone seeing this? Where –

"Get the fuck away from her!" Santana heard the contact of skin on skin and her eyes tore open. Derek was on the floor, the hand that had previously been groping her covering his face, which was now covered in slushy. In front of her, arms up defensively, was her savior – Noah Puckerman. A scowl defended his face, fists clenched as he waited for Derek's next move.

"What the fuck, man?"

"Keep your filthy goddamn hands off of her! You're such a piece of shit Robinson! She told you to lay off, so you fucking lay off!" Puck turned to Santana and reached to set his hands on her arms, but she jumped back, apologetic eyes avoiding his. He set his jaw and turned back around, grabbing Derek by the shirt and lifting him off the ground, throwing him into the lockers. He shoved him back, sticking a finger in his face with a scowl like William McKinley High School had never seen before.

"You. Stay. Away. From. Her. You hear me loser? You leave her and Brittany alone. I don't fucking care if you have to transfer schools. You stay away." He slammed Derek back against the locker one more time, a loud band resonating through the hall. The boy nodded quickly, and scampered off as soon as Puck let go of him, covered in slushy and a bruise forming on his cheekbone.

Puck stepped back and looked at the crowd that had formed around them, his face still set in a hard scowl. The bell rang. The crowd didn't move. He stepped forward, up to Santana.

"C'mon. Let's go to lunch."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I don't own Glee or anything affiliated. :(

* * *

"Mr. Schuester, there's really nothing I can do."

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do?" Will cried, anger overtaking him as he stood up, throwing the chair back as he did so.

"All I'm saying is that he didn't actually harm the girl. Until he actually hurts her – "

"So you're going to let her have to deal with this harassment alone? Nothing? Because what – because she's gay? Or because he's a football player?"

Principal Figgins sighed loudly, wiping the sweat from his face sloppily with his sleeve. "William… You can't do this to me."

"Figgins." The door slammed behind a bright red tracksuit.

"Not now, Sue," he sighed again.

"Yes now," she insisted, "Miss Lopez is a student of mine as well. A student that I care for deeply, and I will see to it personally that this harassment is ended, whether you choose to take action or not."

All eyes were on Coach Sylvester, a sudden new interest entering the greasy principal's gaze.

"This _is _sexual harassment."

"Sue, I don't – "

"This _is _bullying."

"What am I – "

"Don't you think the girl has been through enough, Figgins?" Will interrupted the flustered principal, and his dark skin flushed red.

"Enough!" He barked. The room fell silent – you could nearly hear the hearts of the three adults, racing in the heat of the moment.

"What am I to do, William? Sue? It was a political campaign that caused this – something that I cannot interfere with. I would lose my administrative status were I to denounce such a thing! And as for the bullying, was Miss Lopez not guilty of similar crimes in the past? Why should I protect her now?" Figgins's face flushed, anger and nerves radiating from his very being. He was more than familiar with Santana Lopez, having had several meetings with the young rebel in her years at McKinley. Protecting her would not only be hypocritical, but also potentially detrimental to his integrity as an educator.

Or so he thought.

The room sat in silence, a few quiet moments of the two teachers both fuming and mulling over what Figgins had said. The still was broken when Sue scoffed, shaking her head.

"Miss Lopez has had something of a bullying record – I understand that. But of what, empty jabs and a couple catfights? Theses aggressive behaviors being purely out of an insecurity that we, as her teachers, refused to see? This boy maliciously laid hands on another student – a female student – while making obvious unwelcome sexual advances and near threats of rape? You're going to condone this behavior?"

Figgins was at a loss for words; his mouth opened and closed, a fish out of water, as Coach Sylvester's articulate argument sunk into his ears.

"We're all she has now – her teachers, the Cheerios and the glee club, as much as I hate to say it. Do you want to be the reason she snaps? Is that really the effect you want to have on a student's life when you have the opportunity to make it better?"

Sue let out a deep breath, stepping off her soapbox and back into the weight of the situation. The room was quiet, the only sound of Figgins's nervous humming. Will's foot tapped impatiently as the teachers waited for a response.

"William, Sue…"

Their eyes widened; Sue cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't… I… Just… Let me see what I can do. Keep an eye on the girl, and Mr. Robinson. I will get back to you when I know what actions I can take."

"Why do you –"

"Because sexual harassment is a different issue than bullying alone, William. Now if you two will excuse me…"

The two teachers left their flustered principal in agitation, both unsatisfied with the sort of resolution that Figgins had sought to hold. Sue looked up as Will stormed off towards the auditorium, letting out an exasperated sigh. You'd think that a child in need would be able to trust in the system that was put in place to protect them.

XxXxXx

"Good afternoon, ladies!" Susan Pierce called from the kitchen, bright and welcoming. Brittany's sister ran into the room, wrapping her arms around Santana and then Brittany. Santana couldn't help but smile, happy to be home to her favorite family; it was a nice way to end an awful day.

"Everything alright?" Mrs. Pierce asked worriedly as soon as the girls entered the kitchen. She immediately noticed the somber expressions, and the frustration etched over her elder daughter's features.

"Bad day," Santana said solemnly, smiling sadly and directing her eyes towards her blonde counterpart.

"Sit down, girls," she directed. They obliged, dropping into chairs around the breakfast nook. Susan set a cup of black coffee in front of Santana, and a cup of chocolate milk in front of Brittany before taking her own seat.

"What happened?"

Brittany looked at Santana, the latter staring intently into her mug.

"Girls," Susan said sharply, her eyes still gentle. "I know something happened."

Santana sighed, giving in to that infamous Pierce gaze, as she began to summarize what had happened with Derek Robinson earlier that day, leaving out the more graphic details both for herself and for the good of the Pierces. Once the tale had been told, Brittany's mother shook her head slowly, eyes lost somewhere beyond the girls before her.

"You've told a teacher about this?" The girls nodded.

"Mr. Schuester," Brittany said.

Susan chuckled quietly, "Maybe that man will grow a pair and do something about it." She sighed, eyes scanning the room before landing back on Santana's face. "

"Are you alright?"

"Yes ma'am. I was… Well honestly, I was a little shaken up before, but I feel better now."

"That kid is an asshole," Mrs. Pierce said bluntly, drawing a laugh from both girls. The nodded in agreement.

"I think Puck is going to kill him," Brittany said, still smiling.

"Oh if he doesn't, I will," her mom answered. She winked at the girls, standing up from her seat. "Well I'm going to start dinner. I'll call you girls down when it's ready."

"Alright! Thanks mom!" "Thank you, Susan."

Brittany and Santana ran up to Brittany's bedroom, ready to plot the heist on the Lopez home.


End file.
